Sara Jean Underwood in NYC

Sara Jean Underwood in NYC

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Sara Jean Underwood, Miss July 2006, and Playmate of the Year 2007, is in NYC signing autographs. Her driver has some plans.


Sara Jean Underwood, Miss July 2006, and Playmate of the Year 2007, is in NYC signing autographs. Her driver has some plans.


Submitted: April 18, 2013

A A A | A A A


Submitted: April 18, 2013



Sara Jean Underwood was getting a cramp in her wrist; she had taken a break from the Playmate of the Year promotional signings but when they invited her to New York City she couldn’t say no. So now she was out of practice and conditioning for the exhausting effort of signing her autograph over and over and over again. She was always a friendly girl but to give herself the smallest of breaks she would chat up each of the men as he stood in front of her, mesmerized by her delicate, natural beauty. Of course, this was a little embarrassing too because the hot pink halter dress Playboy had given her to wear was almost transparent; her nipples, always aroused when she knew she was being ogled, poked out eagerly, and the sheer soft fabric did nothing to hide the sensual curves of her firm ripe breasts. Modesty made her pin the front closed somewhat but still plenty of moist cleavage was on view to each fan standing above her at the autograph table.

The line from the Hawaiian Tropic Zone Restaurant went up the stairs and out the door, seemingly endless as it merged with the already bustling summer crowds of Times Square. Sara gazed at the line and sighed, then smiled up at the next customer, asking his name in her sweet melodious voice and pursuing yet another innocuous conversation that left each man convinced that the delicious blonde playmate loved only him. Even after her hour was up Sara stayed on duty, trying to finish the line but finally the manager called a halt and the sweet girl reluctantly left hundreds of disappointed fans. “Your driver’s in the office,” the manager explained as he guided her through the garish restaurant and down some stairs to the basement office.

He opened the office door for her and guided her in. “Here he is,” he said, treating himself to a long study of her shapely body in the short tight sheer mini-dress. “Thanks a lot, Sara,” he sighed, “You were fabulous, but I gotta go back and deal with the crowd.”

“If you want, I can sign a bunch of glossies when I get back to the hotel and send my driver down with them,” Sara said sweetly.

“Sure, that would be great. Here’s your driver now.” The manager gestured to a couch in his office and closed the door as he left for his duties.

Sara turned to the couch and furrowed her brow for a brief second when she saw the man lounging there, lying back as if napping with his feet up on one of the arms; he was casually studying an issue of Playboy –  Sara could see the nudes of herself spread out as he rested the magazine on his thighs. He glanced up at Sara, then back at the page, then gave the shy blonde a long stare as if he were seeing her standing there like she was in the magazine. The smile he gave her was arrogant.  Sara did not approve but hid her discomfort, pressing her lips together into a thin line.

The man shifted his body, tossing the magazine on table carelessly. He was in his mid thirties and Sara couldn’t help noticing he was attractive: tall, built squarely like a football player or a solider, in fact he had the square conservative look of a Marine officer. Unlike her usual driver, who had worn a suit, this man was dressed casually in a Hawaiian shirt and baggy shorts. His hair was really short, not much more than fuzz, his eyes were dark and his mouth curled into a sneer. For the first time in her life Sara felt the urge to slap somebody. But then she noticed his hands; they were wide, rough and strong, seemingly coiled with a raw brutal energy.

The room was silent for a moment but vibrating with a explicit tension. They both watched expectantly, Sara with her face blank and lips pressed tight together—she felt naked and exposed in the sheer pink dress, the man with his laughing eyes and insolent grin—he brushed his large hand over the short stubs of his hair and leaned into the couch, draping his hand over the back as if expecting her to sit next to him.

“Where’s Pete?” Sara finally asked, trying to sound authoritative and displeased by the sharp break in her voice.

“He got called away,” the man replied. Sara could tell he noticed the nervousness in her question. “I’m Greg; I work for Playboy so…” He flicked a hand in the air as if brushing away her concerns, flaunting his disdain.

Sara, still wanting to get control of the situation, stood arms akimbo and nose in the air, not realizing that as she jammed her hands to her hips she was thrusting her shapely chest forward and giving the man a nice view of her curves. “Well, I want to go right to the hotel,” she demanded, her voice still sounding a little tentative as she pouted.

He nodded condescendingly and chuckled softly; rising he shook himself, reminding the girl of a fierce stallion in a racing paddock. When he stepped forward he towered over the petite playmate, casting a menacing shadow over her upturned face; Sara felt an eerie chill rush down her spine but an odd prickling of excitement too.

Greg stepped past, opening the door for her and giving her a slight bow that seemed almost mocking. He led the way and Sara followed hesitantly, thinking she might be better off taking a cab. Without saying another word the man strode along confidently, sure that the tiny girl was coming along submissively; he felt a warm tingling, thinking about the different playmates he had met back in LA. Sara was certainly a delectable morsel and he was glad he had come out to New York. This was going to be fun.

Sara’s heels made an ominous clacking sound on the steel steps leading down to parking garage; the stairwell was empty, echoing her shallow breathing and the metallic snap of her heels. Greg moved silently, almost stealthily, never bothering to turn to see if she was following, never saying a word. Sara looked up at his broad shoulders and the easy stride of his body; still she could sense a perilous energy coiled in his muscles waiting to explode.

She was relieved to see the Mercedes the magazine had rented for her and she noticed Greg pulling out the keys; at least he did work for Playboy after all. He beeped the locks free and opened the front door of the passenger side for her but she sneered, or at least tried to imitate his arrogant sneer, and opened the back door for herself, sliding gracefully into the seat. “Let’s just get to the hotel; I assume you know where it is,” she said haughtily.

He grinned, admiring her feistiness; yeah, this was going to be fun. A few seconds later they were pushing through NYC traffic. The Peninsula was one of NYC’s most exclusive luxury hotels; a few blocks up town on Fifth Avenue, it was less than a mile away from the restaurant and Greg drove expertly, easing through the bustle so his passenger could sightsee. The pretty blonde stared out the window, marveling at the crowds and lights everywhere. Every few minutes she would steal a glance up to the rearview mirror and she would gulp because every time she peeked he was looking right back at her, a lecherous gleam in his eye; his mouth fixed in that superior sneer, he maintained his spine-chilling silence. But her eyes always dropped to his hands, huge thick fingers seeming to glow with rage as they gripped the steering wheel; Sara shivered.  

At the hotel he drove directly into the private underground garage reserved for only the most privileged guests; he flashed the pass to the security guard as if he were an emperor acknowledging a slave. As soon as the car was parked Sara was out and slamming the door behind her. “Thank you,” she mumbled, scurrying to the elevator as soon as she could.

She jammed the call button frantically, as though hitting it several times would make the elevator appear more quickly. She didn’t have to turn around to know that he was right behind her. She sensed his sinister silent strength near her just before he firmly took her wrist and drew it away from the button. “I’ll take you up,” he said flatly. Sara snapped her hand from his grip and crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to look at him. She tapped her foot nervously waiting for the elevator to open.

The doors finally slid apart and the petite girl practically leapt inside the car but his huge body filled the space, making her feel trapped. He pressed for the floor, apparently he knew it already. Sara pressed her petite body into the far corner; she stared at Greg as he stood near the buttons not even bothering to look at her. Then she noticed his hands hanging limp at his sides folding and unfolding slowly as if they were imagining a body in their grip.

This was the private elevator, leading to the most restricted floors and it shot up like a rocket. Greg’s silent stillness seemed to defy the velocity of the car, but the elevator’s speed matched the beat of Sara’s heart. But before she could get too panicky, the doors were sliding apart; she bolted out of the elevator and ran to her door.

Only then did she realize that she was not carrying a bag and the flimsy see-through dress had no pockets. She had given the key card to Pete to hold. Leaning against the locked door she looked down towards the elevator and watched Greg saunter down the hall, jauntily flipping the key card across his fingers like a magician with a coin; he was showing off so she could see he had it.

Sara’s delicate fingers were pressed over her lips and her eyes were wide as she watched the silent hulking man approach; he took his time, enjoying the sight of Sara’s chest heaving and belly fluttering as she rapidly sucked in air. Reaching the door he stood close, pressing a palm flat on the surface next to the girl’s head as if to pin her down. Perhaps a millimeter separated their two bodies and Sara’s diamond hard nipples pushed the gossamer fabric of her dress against the silk of his Hawaiian shirt and made a tantalizing sigh as her chest heaved in deep breaths.

Greg took a long swallow of air, drinking up her scent; then deftly swiping the card he pushed the door and the girl forward as he stepped into the room.

Stumbling on her high heels Sara traveled backwards for a few steps, stopping in the middle of the room. She spun around, dismissively turning her back to him but she let out a yelp of surprise when she heard the click of the brass security bar being flipped into position. She knew which side of the door he was on.

“Easy,” he purred smoothly. “Jumpy huh? I’ll keep you company. Tuck you in,” he chuckled to himself at the image. Sara shook her head; this was the most he had spoken and she did not like what he was saying. But he was still and silent again and she  waited quietly, feeling tiny and fragile in the large elegant room.

An endless minute went by, filled with the roar of the room’s stillness; then Sara shivered, sensing him coming closer. She would have jumped again when his large hands touched her bare shoulders but he gripped her firmly and was guiding her towards the large silk covered couch. Holding her at arms length Greg moved her slowly, enjoying the sensual rhythm of her plump ass under the flimsy short dress and the smooth soft skin of her exposed back.

As she approached the couch Sara held out her slender arms, feeling him push her down to the seat. She pressed her palms to the back of the couch, resisting slightly, but he used his leg to sweep her feet off the floor and shove her down into the plush pillow.

She fell with a gasp and the silk seemed to whisper in warning as he dropped down next her. She squirmed to the far end of the couch and pulled her legs up against her chest, looking at him with what she hoped was fury.

He sniggered at her defiance and took a moment to admire the sweet curves of her body, then he looked around the luxurious suite, taking it all in. He gazed past the girl, to the other side of the suite and he grinned widely; Sara turned around to see what had caught his eye. She swallowed in panic, seeing the bedroom door wide open and the huge bed sitting there invitingly; the maid had already turned the bed down and the satin sheet sheets shimmered seductively.

“Nice place,” he said approvingly. “Playboy set you up good.” The elegance of the room seemed to make him sociable. He slipped his loafers off, making himself at home. He surveyed his kingdom once more with approval until his wandering eyes rested on the bar. “Hey, you want a drink?” Without waiting for a reply he strutted over and poured two generous glasses of expensive Scotch. When he returned to the couch he sat close to her, squeezing her tiny body between his thigh and the arm rest. He handed her the drink and she took a small sip. The fiery liquid seemed to give her a little courage. He tossed his drink back in one greedy gulp and when he slammed the crystal tumbler down on the glass tabletop in front of them she jumped again.

“You are really nervous. They’ve been working you too hard.”

“Don’t you think you should go?” she whispered desperately. “I mean…so I can get some rest.”

“Come on, Sara Jean,” he said in a congenial tone. “You know the deal. You know I’m gonna ball you.”

“Oh…” The brief one syllable response was more a burst of air brushing over her moist lips.

The air in the room was sucked away and the clocks stopped; the noise of the traffic a dozen floors below them faded into a whisper like the sound of a breeze in a forest. Sara’s heart was beating quickly but everything else was in slow motion, she felt like she was watching herself from some corner of the room as he slid his arms under her and lifted her into his lap. The drink dropped from her hand but made no sound as it hit the floor. Sara watched the liquid spread into a dark stain on the pale carpet.

Her back was against his chest and she could feel his energy tightly coiled beneath her. Then his large hand was under her chin, turning her head around and pulling her face up to his; her lips parted, yielding to him.

Sara shuddered like a fawn as he kissed her. She let her sweet pink tongue flutter over his invading monster and into his mouth. His tyrant tongue danced with hers and shoved in deep into her throat, impaling her, like she knew he would, into every inch of her.

Her body was limp and yielding, warm and trembling.  He reveled in the taste of her sweet mouth, a delicious bowl of liquid sugar. They kissed for a long time, barely touching except for their lips. Finally Sara broke away and bent forward, doubling herself over her outstretched legs; her body was tight and curvaceous, folded in the graceful form of a ballet dancer. As her supple body bent it was pushing her plump ass back into his groin and belly. The halter dress had no back and Greg, barely touching her, pushed her long straight blonde hair down over her shoulders, hiding her face but revealing the smooth pale expanse of her flawless skin.

Sara, her head down near her ankles, muffled her groan behind the curtain of blonde hair as his large hands began to knead into the muscles of her back. His fingers moved expertly, caressing and loving every inch of her shoulders and back all the way down her spine to the edge of her dress just over her ass. She felt herself relaxing and melting even as she felt the steel spring inside him tightening.

His fingers now touched the thin strip of pink fabric at the back of her neck; Sara held her breath as his thumb slipped under and the halter top tugged backwards over her chest for a brief second before, with a quick jerk, he tore the strap. The top loosened and Sara slid her arms between her legs and her chest, cradling her bare breasts.

Her body was still limp and yielding; in a soft slow pas deux, Greg gently placed each of her feet, one at a time, to the floor and stood her up, letting her torso slowly rise from her hips as her hair tumbled over her shoulders. He slipped his thumbs into the waistband of the dress and eased it down slowly, his rough knuckles caressing the flesh of her thighs and calves and ankles. Her pink panties were a mere cloud over the round orbs of her ass. Holding her hips he turned her around to face him, her tiny feet, still in the white high heels, taking tiny ballerina steps.

She looked at him with soft submissive eyes, her arms hiding her breasts. She felt his eyes wander down her body, pausing for a moment over her flat belly, and lingering at the sight of her naked pussy trying to hide under the gossamer panties. His hands tugged down her arms and with a willowy flutter they floated to her sides and he gazed lovingly at her two perfect pear-shaped breasts. He took her wrists again and urging her forward, he opened his mouth wide and pulled in one of those succulent morsels, sucking it deeply, trying to devour the entire mound.

As he sucked and nibbled at each of her breasts, Sara felt arousal grow and glow inside her; each rock hard bud seemed alive and dancing inside his mouth. She stood between his legs and guided his head gently back and forth over each nipple, letting him lick and bite and kiss and suck; she felt as if she was disappearing into his mouth.  Tender words, urgent endearments filled her head but she suppressed the desire to speak; the silence of his attack stirred them both.

His tongue worked down and flicked over her belly button, making her giggle. His strong hands lifted her by the waist until she was kneeling on his legs. She let out a happy whoop when he ripped the panties off and she held her breath when he lifted her even higher; held in the air by his strong arms, she felt both free as if  she were flying, and yet still a captive caught between his powerful hands – it excited her. Spreading her legs and dipping his face between her thighs, his mouth covered her bare shaven pussy and his tongue pierced her like a spear, twirling and pulsating deep inside her, sucking up her nectar as she moaned and trembled in his grip. She reached for the back of the couch as he feasted on her, seeming to drain her juices dry, but setting loose a new torrent of ecstasy with each of his greedy gulps.

She thought she had passed out but he was lowering her legs to the floor and standing in front of her. Sara was panting, watching him expectantly.

“Open my pants,” he commanded.

“No….yessssss,” she hissed. Her tiny hand wobbled as she struggled with the belt and button, then tugged the zipper down. She felt a monster quivering under his clothes and she was fearful as she knelt, pulling his shorts and underwear down as she dropped to her knees.

His cock was a monster to the tiny girl. Long and thick and throbbing it sprang at her as she jumped back.

“No, please…I can’t,” she sobbed, even as her tiny hand gracefully cupped his balls and brushed over a long pulsating vein, seeming to measure the endless length to the tip of his cock.

“I want to ball you, Sara.” His voice was even and flat, menacing.

“No, please; it’s too big.” Her two hands were wrapped around it, gently stroking its prodigious length.

“I’m gonna fuck you, Sara,” he growled. He had pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside.

“Please,” she moaned, unable to take her eyes off the throbbing beast in her hands. “It’s too big; let me kiss it instead.” She moistened her lips and leaned forward but felt herself pulled up by her shoulders.

“Later, suck me later; I wanna fuck you, NOW!”

She fell limply into his powerful arms and knew where he was carrying her. She swooned like a damsel in distress as the cool satin sheets kissed her skin. She was a willing plaything, her body supple and yielding as he arranged her on the bed. He was crazed with hunger; Sara could feel his body quake as he controlled his tightly coiled lust. He moved slowly and deliberately, knowing exactly what he wanted from the tender girl. He turned her face down and slowly tucked her knees under her belly; Sara braced her body by leaning her elbows into the sheets and intertwining her fingers behind her neck, her face pressed into the sheets. He knelt behind her; his whole body covered hers like a storm cloud over a field of fragile flowers. His broad chest crushed over the moist flesh of her bare shoulders; his thick forearms rested on sheets on both sides of her with his thick strong fingers in her soft blonde hair. He covered her entire body as if she were a fragile bird engulfed by a snake.

His huge cock squirmed between her legs, a beast on the prowl. In this position her ass was in the air and her fragrant honey pot spread open for him.

The tip of his cock kissed her pussy and she sobbed, sensing the power pulsating behind it; the petals of her sex unfurled, inviting him in. The head of his cock pushed between those tender petals and she groaned as she felt his massive girth spread her open. The weight of his body engulfed her entirely. His arms held hers down, his chest pushed down on her spine and shoulders. His hips against hers thrust forward and just an inch of his monster shoved into her sex; she bit into the sheets to stifle her scream and she trembled violently. The only sound had been the sweet girl’s love cries and the rustling of the satin. Greg had been grimly silent, frighteningly quiet. Now he let loose a soft comforting hiss; “Sshhh,” he breathed, filling her with a comforting warmth. They were still for awhile, the only motion her slight quavering under him as just a small length of his cock throbbed inside her.

With one sudden thrust the entire beast crashed through and ravaged her delicate flower. Her mouth screamed against the sheets, seeming to shake the bed with her agony and she vibrated as his cock exploded, letting loose and uncontrollable flood of liquid fire. But then he was still, his long wide cock deep inside her as his huge body covered her from head to toe; curled face down under him, impaled on his shaft she was like a helpless victim being devoured by a snake.

“It…it’s…too big,” she sobbed, a meek voice under his massive torso. His only response was to let more of his weight crush over her and for his cock to expand even wider inside her.

She was paralyzed by the sweet agony of his possession. For a long time they were still, the only motion her delicate quivers; the only sound her soft whimpers. He stayed still, like a feral beast, savoring the tightness of her sex wrapped around him, savoring the feeling of engulfing her entirely with his body, savoring her sweet whimpers and delicious aroma. She could feel his cock growing harder, pulsating as it filled with fire; her body was completely consumed by the beast. Holding her still, crushing over her whole body still, every so often he would rock gently, tickling deep inside her with the tip of his cock. She lay curled under him, impaled on him, his prisoner, and the sweet rippling of her sex tightened around his massive shaft.  She let out a long shudder of bliss and was still again, engulfed by him and filled by him.

The energy of their stillness, the delicate shivers of the girl and the sweet throbbing of his cock deep inside her ever tightening sheath was more arousing and sensuous then if they actually moved and pumped his shaft in her. If you saw them from the doorway of the bedroom all you would have seen was a hulking man kneeling face down on the bed as if praying; all you would hear would be Sara’s meek little gasps.

She laid curled, crushed inside and out; ecstasy coiling tighter and tighter; his cock seemed to throb along the length of her spine. She would explode soon.

Finally, after an eternity of blissful captivity, Sara felt his cock begin to move. It took a long, long time for the long shaft to slide back out of her, seeming to kiss the sides of her sex as it moved. Then it plunged forward causing another melodious grunt to burst from her lips. In the slowest slow motion possible he pumped back and forth, his cock squeezed by the delicate petals of her sex and caressed by the warm honey of her bliss. She groaned in agony but her body would not let him go.

The pace quickened. His cock grew impossibly larger, spreading deep into the moist secrets of her womb. One of his thick fingers slid under her belly to probe for her clit. One touch of that hot nub and her body sprang to life; where before every thing was slow motion suddenly she was a torrent of fury, seeking out every inch of him as she bucked and squirmed under him, still pinned down by his body. Her spine was tightening into a steel spring to match his fury. In and out he plunged, deeper and deeper and deeper; she squealed and sobbed louder and louder. She felt him shoot into her, a rapid volley, and she thrust back to meet each fire ball as it burst inside her sweetness.

When she came she exploded; the tiny playmate found the strength to jam her hands into the mattress and snap her body up, pushing him back as she thrust into the air like a bird on fire and plunging herself back onto his cock. She came in a short burst of groans, then a long growl that faded into a high pitched cry as her juices flooded into bliss. She fell forward into the mattress and rolled over, panting as she stared up at him with wild eyes; her straight blonde hair twisted and disheveled, her flawless skin covered in sweat. She was a sex goddess demanding worship. And although he had shot everything he had into her, the vision of her desire now caused his cock to spring to life and he dove forward, plunging deep into her as her legs wrapped around him and her nails tore at his back; still wearing the stiletto shoes, she jammed the sharp heels into his rear as though spurring a stallion. He pounded and hammered, throwing her over every inch of the enormous bed, their fucking causing the legs of the bed to gallop wildly, the deep blue satin streaked with her sweet sex sweat.

He came inside her as she scratched and clawed and bit like a banshee but when he thought he was empty she pushed him off her and sprang like a cat over him; plunging down on his cock, she rode him once more, tossing her long blonde hair in wide circles as glistening diamonds of sweat flew off her. Up and down she rode, pulling his massive hands over her firm ripe breasts and urging him to squeeze and pinch her. When she came she froze, focusing all energy to the coil of bliss about to spring open—when she came, her body was rigid, rattling as she struggled to contain the explosion with her fragile body. When she came, finally shaking and writhing into unconsciousness she felt backwards into ecstasy.

Greg looked at this exhausted playmate and heard her deep satisfied breathing as she slept. He was right he decided, she did need to get fucked.


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